Attero
by Scelestus
Summary: Lloydx5characters One-shots. Chapter 3: Lloyd had no idea that simply walking out the front door would lead to a soundless skirmish between himself and the sinister serpent that was Mithos.
1. Infractus: LloydxYuan

~Notes: Seeing as how Lloyd is the apparatus to which a lot of characters open up, I thought I'd do some LloydxCharacter fics. I was going to post them separately, but I don't want to spam this site. Instead, I will break them up and post 5 in here. Also they're in no particular order.

This particular fic takes place 4 years after the game, when Lloyd's 22. You may be asking: "Wait, since when does 17+4=22!? Oh yeah, it DOESN'T." Well, yeah, it doesn't. I'm assuming the Journey of Regeneration took a few months, making Lloyd _at least_ 17 and a half, if not 18, when it ended. Of course, I'm also assuming that the ToS world uses our calendar as well.

*Oh yeah, I haven't played --and will never play-- ToS2, so there isn't anything relating to that game.

~Disclaimer: I don't own Tales of Symphonia, nor the characters encased in this entire fic. Don't sue me.

* * *

~"Infractus"~

-Broken-

It had been a long journey for Lloyd and his fellow traveller, Noishe, --his literally life-long companion-- who stuck by his side. The pair were finally returning home from their Exsphere-hunting voyage, which was wholly successful. They surpassed many challenges together, overcoming anything pitched at them from irate citizens who refused to give up their Exspheres without compensation. Lloyd and Noishe couldn't be happier to have triumphed over the goal they set.

Now trudging up the homeward bound path in the heart of the Iselia Forest, the wind began to pick up. It played with Lloyd's long locks, almost tousling them out of his loosely pulled ponytail. He rolled his roan-red sleeves down to ward off the chill he was beginning to feel. He looked up ahead at the cozy hut that had been his home for many years, feeling a sensation of contentment. Using his angelic eyesight, he inspected the exterior of his home. It didn't look like anyone was there; the small building had no lights illuminating the few rooms it possessed. Though, something caught his eye. Moving closer, Lloyd saw an off-white piece of paper tacked to the door. In unrefined, obviously quickly written printing, it read:

_Gon for bisness_

_be back in 8 days!_

_-Dirk Irving_

_10/9/3_

Lloyd frowned slightly at the brief note. _That was…six days ago, _he mentally calculated, being unable to help but feel a little saddened that he was incapable of seeing his father for a few more days. Turning to Noishe, he murmured, "Oh, well. I guess we'll just have say 'Hi' to Mom instead." The protozoan tilted its head to the side, question floating in its eyes. Lloyd quickly figured out why. "Ah, I guess you can't read from here…o-o-or at all, I mean," he laughed nervously and continued, scratching the back of his head. "Dad put up a note saying he isn't here and won't be back for a while." Noishe yipped in response.

Resting his travel gear on the bench near the stream, he strolled to his mother's grave-site. His travelling partner followed close behind, tail wagging energetically as the grass crunched beneath its paws.

Kneeling in front of the site, Lloyd gazed down at the sword that lay shimmering in the fading sunlight: the Flamberge. A smile tugged at his lips as he marvelled at it. Despite being left to rest to deal with any harsh weather nature might have thrown at the weapon in his absence, it was in the same pristine condition as he left it. The grip was free of tears and gashes, the hilt as lustrous as always. Lloyd could feel the heat radiating from the wave-shaped blade like the embers of a freshly made campfire.

"Dad…"

Looking at the sword only made Lloyd's contentment morph into wistfulness. Shifting his gaze, he looked up at his mother's gravestone.

"Mom…"

Noishe whined from behind Lloyd as he slowly ran his hand along the headstone's rounded top, feeling the rough granite. Although the upright slab was fairly weathered, the few intricate designs on it were intact, as was his mother's name. Stretching out his pointer finger, he traced the fancily carved "ANNA" on it. The detail of the name, done by Dirk himself, was quite the contrast to the crude writing on the note on the door.

"Just one more to go…"

A spark of pain ran through his chest as tears of yearning threatened to fall from his eyes. Noishe only whined louder as Lloyd brought his Exsphere-bearing hand up to eye level. He inspected the cobalt-blue jewel set upon his key crest.

Twelve long years he had had his Exsphere.

Twelve years ago, he christened it his most valuable possession.

Twelve years ago, he was told to keep it from sight.

Twelve years ago, he began using the stone to train towards being the mighty warrior he had dreamed of becoming.

Four years ago, he found out its actual history.

Four years ago, he wished to throw it away, but thought against it.

Four years ago, he avenged his mother.

Four years ago, he became that "mighty warrior."

Sighing, Lloyd silently let his tears fall freely. His shoulders began to shake as he attempted to quell the sobs that advanced through his body. Even though he knew what he had to do, Lloyd couldn't bring himself to destroy what was once a part of his mother, as well as himself. He felt ill and more than a little crestfallen.

"They would be proud of you, you know."

Startled, Lloyd grabbed the Flamberge and jumped up, spinning to confront the owner of the voice. He came face-to-face to none other than Yuan, who had on an amused smirk.

"My, my, nice reflexes there. However, honing your angel senses need work. Noishe has been whining the entire time you were bawling, trying to get your attention for me."

Lloyd stepped back a bit. "I-I'm _not_ '_bawling_'!" Turning away, he rubbed his eyes briskly on his sleeve before pivoting back. "_See_? I'm fine."

Yuan scoffed. "_Riiight_." He folded his arms in front of chest, his right over his left. "As I was saying, Kratos and Anna would be proud. You have done good, Lloyd."

His mocking tone switching to a soft, light one surprised Lloyd, who replied, "…You think so?"

The older man nodded. "Of course. You set goals for yourself and completed them, making the world a better place...twice." He paused, then whispered, "Your mother would definitely be the happiest of them both."

Lloyd looked away. "You act as if you knew her…"

"I did." Lloyd looked back at the Seraph promptly. "…I met her briefly, anyway. She was nice, but she had quite a temper. You are actually a lot like her, you know."

"Yeah…Kra…Dad told me that a few times."

"Hmm," Yuan hummed. His eyes scanned the younger man's face for a moment before he pointed to Lloyd's left hand. "You were looking at your Exsphere a while ago. Are you not going to destroy that one, too?"

"Yes," Lloyd answered robotically. The word lingered in the air for a short moment. "I want to set Mom free, but…it's hard, y'know?"

"Do you need…help? We could do it together…"

Lloyd's features returned to a surprised look. "Y-you'd do that? For me?"

Yuan nodded. "I believe that this is not something that you should do on your own."

Lloyd gripped the Flamberge tightly as he contemplated. On the one hand, there was the possibility that Lloyd wouldn't have the willpower to fulfill his last duty. On the other, though it may have sounded selfish, it would feel right if it was he alone to destroy his Exsphere; _he_ wanted to be the one who gave liberty to his mother. Finally making up his mind, he shook his head. "Actually, it's fine," he said with surprising strength. He was happy his voice didn't portray how weak he truly felt. "I think I can do this on my own."

"If that is what you choose, I will not stand in your way." Following his words, Yuan backed up to allow the dual-swordsman room.

The roan red-clad man smiled weakly. He took a deep breath and unequipped his Exsphere from his key crest, resting it at the foot of his mother's headstone. A wave of what felt like energy being drained from his core coursed through Lloyd's body. He ignored it, however; it was now or never. Raising the sword of fire above his head, Lloyd hesitated, for there was one more thing yet to do. He mouthed words of thanks to Anna for protecting him, even in her absence.

With that, he was ready. Lloyd brought the blade down edge-first with a powerful vertical swing, slicing through the air before impacting the Exsphere. The stone shattered into several shards of varying lengths, each one reflecting the dying rays of the sinking sun.

And Lloyd's heart shattered along with it.

It would have been a beautiful sight, the sparkling pieces, had they not held such a negative connotation. Lloyd's knees trembled feebly, and his legs gave way. The brunet fell hard on his knee caps, but no pain passed through his body. He felt numb, --_tremendously_ numb-- as if he were swimming in the frozen waters of Flanoir. He didn't even notice the steady stream of salty tears that began to flow down his cheeks. Noishe, alternatively, did notice his tears and came closer to nuzzle Lloyd's cheek, wetting its muzzle with the saline liquid.

Yuan, who was a spectator to the short-lived ordeal, wavered before weaving around the protozoan to get to Lloyd. He kneeled to put his arm around the young man as he wept. Though Yuan wasn't the one person Lloyd might have wanted beside him, nor was he there to replace that someone, he still offered whatever solace a stone Seraph such as he could give.

"It's alright," he whispered soothingly, holding the brunet tightly. "They would be proud, Lloyd...they would be proud."

* * *

~End Notes: Actually, this one's more about Lloyd than any one of these fics *shrug*. I don't know much about Yuan, and therefore froze when he showed up in the fic. He's just kinda there here, no?

Eh…this one was hard to complete, but it's done. Hopefully, you enjoyed it! Please review!


	2. Dolor: LloydxSeles

~Notes: I smell a hint of OoCness in the air. Perhaps on both parts, really... の_の;

~Disclaimer: I don't own Tales of Symphonia. You know when you're annoyed with disclaimers already when you don't feel like saying anything clever here.

* * *

~"Dolor"~

-(Misery)-

"_Well, someone has to tell her…"_

"_Why does it have to be _me_, though?"_

"_Because you're the one that…Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean--"_

"_No, it's fine. You're right, Professor."_

"_I'm so sorry…"_

_--===--  
_

She looked tired, the girl looking back at Seles from the mirror. Tired and ashen and drained. Her mouth was only a thin grim line drawn on her monotone face. Her turquoise eyes, which had a twinkle in them long since dimmed, looked sunken in. Seles turned away from her reflection in despair. It was understandable, the way she looked, for her chest was sore from constant anxiety and her dreams were nothing but unpleasant lately. Every night she dreamt of drowning in a sea of desolation and loneliness, as well as being constantly shunned and locked farther away from the world.

The aching within Seles' chest was like none other; she never had such a terrible feeling cultivate there before. It started out small when she awoke a few days ago. Gradually, it began to swell and bulge like an over-blown-up balloon. Every time she thought about it, it would get to the point where she was unable to breathe. Seles took to attempting to calm herself down, and her gaze shifted to her wooden hairbrush laying on the dresser. She reached for it and picked it up, for brushing her pale rosen hair had always comforted her in the past. As did brushing her brother's…

There was that feeling again! That sharp static-like shock that would surely begin to amplify if she wasn't careful about her thoughts. _Nothing could have happened_, Seles reassured herself, but she didn't want to think about it any longer.

There was a soft knock on her door, followed by louder rapping. Frowning, Seles called an irritated "What?" from her seat.

"Lady Seles…someone is here to see you," a gruff, muffled voice answered.

Setting her brush down, she swivelled in her chair, got up, and headed to open the door of 'her' room. Suddenly, it felt like she was in slow motion, walking the short distance from her seat to the door. It was as if opening it would be like opening Pandora's box and unleashing unspeakable evils into the room. An all too familiar mixture of worry and dread settled in her chest as her dainty hand closed over the tarnished knob.

"Ugh, what do _you_ want?" Seles spat after opening the door and being disappointed at who she saw: a young brown-haired man clothed in awkward --most likely peasant-- apparel. She couldn't quite place his name, but it wasn't important. Her heart was beating in alarm, and she was more afraid he would be able to hear it.

"Do you mind if I come in?" He was given a slightly disgusted look in response. Yet, he continued, voice cracking slightly.. "Um…I have something to tell you, but I'm not sure how…"

That last sentence caught the attention of Seles, making her heart beat faster in uneasy anticipation. When she moved aside, he entered, closing the door behind him. He looked so uncomfortable, the teen with spiky hair; he kept shifting his weight from one foot to another, and his gaze never met Seles' eyes. This made waves of nervousness to skitter up her spine and spread throughout her body like wildfire. Now she was unsure whether or not it was a good idea to let the swordsman in.

"I'm listening," Seles answered rudely, tapping her foot in impatience. "Out with it; I don't have all day, you know." She was being untruthful, of course; she did have all day, but Seles thought her constant discourteous manner toward the young man would veil the extreme amount of panic she felt.

The brunet looked as if he was physically in pain trying to force words out of his mouth. With a clearing of his throat and a heavy sigh, he started. "It's about Zelos..." His eyes then met Seles'. "He's dead."

_He's dead_...the words seemed to bounce and rebound off the stone walls that Seles was beginning to believe were closing in on her. Time, as well as her heart, had stopped for her, yet the walls were unaffected; they kept constricting in on the young girl.

She snapped out of whatever trance she was in, and it was then that everything happened in a flash. Nostrils flaring and ears buzzing, Seles pivoted and ran to her dresser, curling her hands into fists to bang on the sienna wood in fury. "What do you mean he's dead!? What do you mean!?" she howled over and over.

"Seles…" the young man moved closer to attempt to calm the girl, reaching an arm out for support. "Let me explain." He paused and took a deep breath, letting the air out of his lungs slowly. "I...I killed him."

He had said it so firmly, so calmly and matter-of-fact-ly. And yet, he seemed shocked at his own words; clearly, he regretted what he said, but the damage had already been done. Seles felt as if her whole world was crashing down around her, and the weird buzzing in her ears got louder. She was unable to get a hold of herself, and the young noble-esque girl's behaviour quickly turned into that of a feral animal's. Her eyes filled with angry tears as she lashed out, raising her hand to rake her long fingernails across the young man's left cheek. He grunted in pain as his gloved hand shot up immediately to soothe the bleeding wound.

"Get out!" She wailed. "Out, out, out! Don't ever come back!"

"Just let me explain!"

"_Now_!" Seles shouted, picking up her hairbrush and hurling it at him. He dodged easily without a second thought, eyes widening in surprise. The brush hit the just-now-opening door and splintered into two pieces.

A sharp, infuriated voice pierced through the hysterics. "What is the meaning of this?"

Seles focused her eyes in the vicinity of the entrance of the room where a Papal Knight was sauntering through. An aura of intimidation and power radiated from him as he towered over the young brunet. He grabbed the boy by his arm and tugged on it. "Perhaps you should come with me..." he hissed.

The teen looked as if he had something to say, but must have thought against it; he had caused enough trouble in a matter of minutes. Evidently realizing he was about to attempt to fight a losing battle, the young man yanked his arm out of the knight's grasp and silently retreated out of the room in regret. The knight followed close behind, armour clanking raucously, and closed the door.

Alone in the Abbey room once more, Seles crumpled to the ground with a heart-wrenching sob. Even though she knew in her heart what had happened the whole time to the only person who had ever loved her, Seles still broke down and cried.

Cried...and swore revenge.

* * *

~End Notes: Oh, Lloyd, at least you tried.

I'll admit that I really don't know (or can't remember) how Seles found out about Zelos' death; I wrote this before attempting to look (my bad *cough*). But, now I don't want to know; it's too late…Lloyd's the one that told her now. Thanks for reading, and please review (くーー just had to add that in there)!


	3. Bellum: LloydxMithos

~Notes: This is the only one-shot that's not angst. And, it's inspired by that "Raine's Sick" side quest…because Mithos is so gawd-dang weird. I'll show what I mean in another fic I'll post soon that's my interpretation of how strange and obsessive I think he is (OMG, fic-whoring in another fic!!!11!!).

~Disclaimer: ಠ_ಠ Don't. Own. Tales of Symphonia.

Enjoy!

* * *

_~"Bellum"~_

_-War-_

_Eerie_.

That was the best word Lloyd could think of to describe the odd and sudden silence that followed when amber eyes met beryl ones. The leaves rustling in the faint breeze seemed to have halted, for the wind had stilled. And Lloyd would swear --if anyone asked-- that even the birds that were previously chirping merrily had stopped their hymns mid-melody.

It was a simple conversation that started this quiet conflict, one that didn't even include his "combatant". Genis had only asked Lloyd if it was he who helped rescue him and Mithos on the path to Raine's cure. He tried to play it off as if he had been by his teacher's side the entire time, but his best friend could tell what really happened. It was obvious that Genis would know; he knew Lloyd like the back of his hand since they had been friends for so long. It was a plain fact that Lloyd would never let any of his companions go anywhere by themselves --even after he was asked not to go along-- because he cared far too much. In conclusion, the brunet had no choice but to admit to assisting the half elves. Satisfied with that, the silver-haired boy thanked his best friend for his help with a cheery smile before going on his way outdoors. It was there where he was greeted warmly by a gently smiling Mithos. Genis chatted away as the two turned around and prepared to leave. Lloyd, wanting to give his teacher time to recover, followed the two outside to relax and wander around aimlessly, but was not greeted in the same way.

Mithos undoubtedly witnessed the two whispering and smiling at something he must have interpreted as a secret. As soon as he caught Lloyd's gaze, Mithos narrowed his eyes at the brunet, specks of irritation and envy glinting in them. His previously childlike features transformed into that of an angry cobra's when a mysteriously familiar look of disapproval and disgust crossed his frowning face. Mithos snaked a possessive arm behind Genis' back and around the boy's shoulders, his fingers curling around the bone like coils of steel. A million and one things seemed to be going through his mind as he coldly stared Lloyd down, and none of them could possibly have been good. The hairs on the back of the older teen's neck stood on end like porcupine quills while tingles of discomfort ran through his body. Lloyd already overheard that the younger boy was slightly uncomfortable with the relationship Genis shared with him. However, he had no idea he would take part in such a strange silent confrontation because of it.

Then, suddenly, it was over; in the blink of an eye, the snap of a finger, the transfixion was broken and the stagnant atmosphere of spite lost its tension. As if nothing happened, the blonde turned his head away and the pair started to slowly depart. Genis didn't glance back once, being innocent of the brief ordeal.

A firm hand put upon Lloyd's own shoulder broke into his thoughts. He looked over to see that the hand belonged to none other than Zelos, whose face was very close to Lloyd's at that point.

"Y'know what this means, right, Bud?" he whispered, his syrupy words swirling around Lloyd's ear. When the red-clad teen shook his head in response, he continued sharply. "'_War_'."

The monosyllabic word echoed in Lloyd's head as turned it back to face forward. He watched the fleeting figures of Mithos and Genis as his facial features morphing into a dumbfounded expression.

Quickly letting go, Zelos laughed loudly, straight into Lloyd's eardrum, causing him to wince and smack his hand over his potentially damaged eardrum. He groaned and gritted his teeth as his ears rang painfully.

_War_? He pondered. _How…fitting_.

* * *

~End Notes: Very short, but if it were any longer, it'd seem like I'm constantly shoving my point in your face.

*And yes, I know the third sentence in the second paragraph is technically _wrong_ in terms of events* --that is if you remember every detail of that sidequest. If not, ignore me. Still, I hope you enjoyed this little one-shot (yeah, I say that a lot, but it's only the truth). Thank you for reading! Please review, too...


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